


Midnight Flower

by claryherondale



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8150629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claryherondale/pseuds/claryherondale
Summary: Isabelle Lightwood is teaching Clary Fray how to become a Shadowhunter. But after a night out at a Downworlder club and an accidental kiss, they both are trying to suppress their confusing feelings for one another. However, when they run into each other in the institute's greenhouse as the midnight flower blooms, there are some things that they can't keep secret any longer.





	

Clary couldn’t help but notice the way Isabelle’s long, black hair whipped around her as she demonstrated a flip. Clary watched her intently, under the guise of studying the move. Izzy, in her training gear, moved like a goddess sheathed in black, an enriching blur for the senses. As she landed lithely on her feet, Isabelle swiftly pulled her seraph blade out of her belt and rested in her battle stance.

 

Izzy broke her posture, putting her weapon back in her belt, and turned to Clary. “See? Now you try.”

 

Clary took a deep breath and tried to remember what she had just seen. She stood on the black mat and focused on herself, working to ignore the fact that Isabelle was watching her with a critical eye. Clary willed her muscles to move in the same graceful way Izzy’s had, and her body complied. When she landed, Clary pulled the seraph blade out of her belt and tried to position herself the way Izzy had.

 

“Good,” said Isabelle approvingly. “There are just some little things you need to work on.”

 

“Like what?” Clary asked.

 

Izzy walked across the mat toward Clary and stood behind her. She gently repositioned Clary’s arms so that they were up higher and her seraph blade so that it was tilted in just slightly more. As Isabelle’s hands grazed her bear arms, Clary took a shaky inhale and then somewhat forgot how to breathe at all. Izzy backed away from Clary, circling around her to observe from the front, and then nodded admiringly.

 

“Perfect. I think that’s enough work for today,” Izzy said.

 

Isabelle high-fived Clary, and then both of them went into the showers. It always smelled like sandalwood in there after Alec was done training, but right now, it was filled with the scent of Isabelle. She never smelled like desserts—Clary knew that Izzy saw no point in trying to perfume herself like she was a pastry—but she had the aroma of flowers and spring. Clary wanted to draw out the scent, but there was no way to fathom it into visible existence.

 

They both showered and got dressed, and not for the first time, Clary wished they were still under eighteen so that she could ask Izzy to be her parabatai. There was just something about the bond, the closeness of it, that made it appealing. She wanted Isabelle to be tied to her in some effable, tangible way.

 

“So, Clary,” Isabelle said as she zipped up her skin-tight, stellar dress, “I was going to go out to one of the Downworlder clubs tonight. Meliorn showed me this place while we were still dating—and Magnus approves of it, so you know it can’t be bad. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. Check it out. Alec and Jace are on a mission, otherwise I’d invite them too.”

 

“I’d love to come with you,” Clary said. “I’ll just have to raincheck with Simon.”

 

“Great,” Isabelle said, smiling brilliantly. “Come up to my room with me and we can figure out something for you to wear.”

 

“Can’t I just wear this?” asked Clary, looking down at her jeans and plain shirt.

 

“You know I won’t let you get away with that. You’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

 

Clary sighed and followed Izzy to her room. As they walked up the stairs, Clary texted Simon and told him she couldn't hang out with him tonight, but that she'd see him tomorrow. Clary could never help but to smile when she entered Isabelle’s room. It was like an explosion of Isabelle: black, pink, and full of makeup and clothing. Izzy rummaged through her closet and found a short, white dress with a belt that cinched the waist stylishly and a black jacket. She handed it to Clary and motioned for her to put it on. Clary did as she wanted, and then slipped on Izzy’s high-heeled, black boots over dark, ripped leggings.

 

“Hot as hell,” Izzy said, looking Clary over.

 

Isabelle did Clary’s makeup, dark eyeliner and eyeshadow paired with crimson lipstick to match the outfit and the Downworlder theme. Isabelle examined her work with a smile.

 

“Am I good enough for you now?” asked Clary.

 

“You’re always good enough for me,” Izzy said with a wink.

 

Clary couldn’t help but to smile slightly at that remark. Together, they went down to the cab that Izzy called for, and they went to the Downworlder club. It wasn’t the same club where Clary had first seen Jace, Alec, and Isabelle, but it had a similar vibe. It was dark and loud but there was a stark and sexy ambiance that even Clary couldn’t avoid.

 

Izzy took a drink for herself and for Clary—she was good at identifying the drinks to make sure they weren’t transformative or any variation of a faerie trap. They drank the mundane alcohol together, dancing and writhing under the flickering, blue lights. Clary let go of her inhibitions. She danced with Isabelle as though they were fighting, bodies whirling.

 

And suddenly, they were kissing. Isabelle initiated the kiss, but Clary didn’t pull away. In fact, everything inside of her wanted Izzy, wanted to be with her like this forever. She felt the angel blood in Isabelle’s veins through this contact, in a way that she had never known it before. Izzy kept kissing her, the music surrounding them and piercing their skin. Clary ran her fingers through Isabelle’s soft hair, while Isabelle wrapped her arms tightly around Clary’s waist. When they parted, they smiled at each other, but they didn’t talk about it.

 

Instead, Isabelle pulled Clary close to her, and they slow danced to a fast song.

 

 


End file.
